


A Sadist's Love Song (A Dying Man's Refrain)

by jujubiest



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canonical Character Death, M/M, Soulmates, season 12
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-12
Updated: 2018-10-12
Packaged: 2019-07-29 21:04:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16272311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jujubiest/pseuds/jujubiest
Summary: Castiel should never have had any words on his wrist. After all, he had no soul. Didn’t it logically follow, then, that he would have no soulmate?Apparently not.





	A Sadist's Love Song (A Dying Man's Refrain)

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little tidbit set during the season 12 finale, and inspired by [this post](https://pluto-astra.tumblr.com/post/166188542923/soulmate-au-where-instead-of-your-soulmates-first). Definitely doesn't explore the full potential of that brilliant (and painful) idea, but it's what came to my mind.

Castiel should never have had any words on his wrist. After all, he had no soul. Didn’t it logically follow, then, that he would have no soulmate?

Apparently not. Apparently, as with so many things, the conventional wisdom no longer applied to him. Because they were there, stark on his skin, a messy scrawl in a panicked, angry red: Cas? Cas! CAS! CAS!

Just that. Just his name–his nickname, the one Dean gave him–four times. The last words his soulmate would ever say to him.

Only two people in the world really called him Cas. That narrowed it down quite a bit. And somehow…somehow, he just knew that writing. He’d never seen Dean’s handwriting that he could recall, at least not beyond numbers, which weren’t a fair test. But he’d seen Sam’s careful cursive in the margins of books for years. Nothing like the barely-legible scrawl on his skin.

Even without that, though. He would know. Which just proved what a sadist God was, really. Because he was one of the very, very few in a position to  _know_ , well before it ended. If he had had the words from the start. If they had shown up earlier.

The words showed up when he fell to Earth. When Metatron made him human, truly human for the first time.

But by then, they had both been on such different roads. Dark ones. And there had just never been a right time to say something. To ask.

And now he hears it behind him, as he walks forward to face Lucifer. Dean, yelling his name, over and over. Sounding more panicked each time. _Cas. Cas. Cas. **Cas!**_

And then silence. Sam must have pulled him back through the door, back to their world.

 _Good_ , he thinks.  _That’s good._

He knows his time is up. Nothing but a true death could take him away from Dean for good, so this must be it. Even when he makes it back through the door, sees their relieved faces, he knows. But he holds onto that moment. Treasures it for that split second.

He isn’t even surprised to feel the cold, electric pain of an angel blade piercing his back.

He’s gone before Dean has a chance to scream his denial. Gone before he hits the ground.


End file.
